The prince moved forward, but Nina seized him by the elbow. “Don’t. He’ll be all right.”
Rasmus’ eyes met hers, not quite the blue they had been. “Get a medic!” he called, holding her gaze. “This poor man needs help.”
Medics and soldiers rushed forward. “We should let him die,” said one, spitting on the ground by Brum’s body. “He tried to kill you, Your Highness.”
“I have no doubt he meant to turn the gun on himself. He lost his only daughter today.” Rasmus paused. “Mila, you knew her well. You were Hanne’s dearest friend, were you not?”
“I loved her,” said Nina, stubborn, terrible hope clawing at her heart. “I love her still.”
* * *
Brum was taken to the infirmary to have his gunshot wounds treated. He would recover in time, though he would have healed faster with the help of a Grisha. Ylva insisted on remaining with him. Nina wanted to comfort her, but she scarcely knew the words to say.
They boarded the royal airship in silence. Already there was talk of Prince Rasmus meeting with his parents to discuss the treaty, of whether the peace would hold, but all Nina wanted was a chance to speak to him alone.
They entered the royal cabin, a sleek pod of golden wood and plush white silk. Through the windows, Nina could see the setting sun painting the clouds in golden light, pale rose, faint blue at the edges.
“Leave us, Joran,” the prince said.
Joran paused at the door, meeting first the prince’s gaze, then Nina’s. “Whatever you require, Your Highness. You need only ask.” He said the words as if speaking a vow. “I’ll see that you’re not disturbed.”
He bowed and departed, closing the door behind him. There were no witnesses now, only the clouds and the sky beyond.
The honeyed light caught on the prince’s features. He was watching her with an expression she’d never seen on his haughty royal face before. She saw fear there, and her own hope reflected back to her.
“Where did we meet?” she whispered.
“In a clearing by a poison stream,” the crown prince replied in that soft, husky voice. “I rode a white horse, and for a moment, you believed I was a soldier.”
Before Nina’s mind could protest, her feet were carrying her across the room. She threw her arms around him.
“Never let me go,” Hanne whispered against her hair, holding her tight.
“Never again.” She drew back. “But … the prince?”
Hanne’s guilty expression said all it needed to. Rasmus was dead, his head dashed by the fall. He’d died wearing Hanne’s face.
“How? What happened in that tower?”
Hanne took a breath. “Prince Rasmus started drinking when Fjerda’s bells were destroyed. He was all mocking words for my father and his plans. He … he thought it was amusing to give me a slap.”
“We knew how cruel he could be. I never should have left you alone with him.”
“It was a small slap.”
“Hanne!”
“It was. It was a test. I think he wanted to see how far he could go. He told me to strike him back, just as he did with Joran. He dared me to hit him. He hit me again. He said we’d play this game whenever he pleased when we were husband and wife. Joran tried to stop him, but … I panicked. I didn’t mean to do it.”
“You used your power on him.”
A tear slid down Hanne’s cheek. “His heart. I think I crushed it … I’ve never hurt someone that way.”
Nina cupped Hanne’s face in her palms. “I know you didn’t mean to. I know you never would.” Hanne had always been too good and too kind for the ugliness of this world.
“I told Joran to run for help. I tried to heal the prince. But I knew he was dead.”
“So you tailored him.”
“Yes. And myself. As quickly as I could. But Joran … I think he took his time.”
To help Hanne? Or because he wanted Prince Rasmus dead? Whatever you require, Your Highness. Could Nina call that redemption? Did his motives matter? Joran had saved Hanne’s life today. He had spoken against Brum. He’d known Nina was not Mila Jandersdat and yet he’d kept that secret to himself. Maybe it could be a beginning.
“I bound my breasts, changed our clothes, and … and … I threw his body out the window.”
“All Saints.”
Hanne sat down on a wide velvet bench. “What am I to tell my mother? She thinks I’m dead. You can’t imagine what it was to hear her grieve, to see you on your knees weeping for me. I can’t lose her, Nina.”
“We’ll find a way to tell her. In time. But Hanne … what do we do now? You’ll have to face the Grimjer king and queen.”
“I can tailor myself more fully before then. Though I wish I had your gift for performance.”
Nina had to laugh. “You did brilliantly. I absolutely believed you were Rasmus. You’re lucky I didn’t murder you on the spot.”
“Don’t think I wasn’t worried. But fooling his parents?”
Hanne had learned deception from Nina over the last months. She’d spent a good part of her life at the Ice Court learning its protocols, and she’d been so much in the prince’s company that his mannerisms and ways of speech were no mystery.
“We’ll practice. We have time on the journey.”
Hanne didn’t look convinced. “If the king and queen ask me questions about Rasmus’ childhood…”
“I can help with that,” said Nina. After all, they had the counsel of the dead.
“Will you?” Hanne’s brow creased. “Can you love a murderer?”
“I might ask the same.”
Hanne hesitated. “And can you love me in this body?”
“It is your heart I love. You know that, don’t you?”
Tears formed in Hanne’s eyes. “I hoped.”
“But where does this end? How long can you stay trapped this way?”
“I’m not trapped, Nina.” Hanne blew out a breath. “What if I told you there’s a rightness in this body? That ever since I understood what tailoring could do, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about what might be?”
Nina remembered the guilty look on Hanne’s face when she’d admitted she’d been tailoring herself in secret. She thought of the way Hanne’s eyes had slid away from her own reflection. Nina hadn’t understood. “You said you didn’t know if you could be happy.”
“I still don’t. I don’t know what it is to live in a body that feels like it could be mine. All I know is … I lost my father today, maybe my mother. But not myself. And if I have to play the role of prince for this possibility, then it’s a trade I’ll gladly make.”
“This from the person who said she hated parties.”
“It isn’t the face I would have chosen. I don’t want to be Rasmus.”
Nina put her hands on Hanne’s shoulders. “You aren’t Rasmus. You’re someone new, someone I can’t wait to know.”
Hanne’s smile was small, a precious, fragile thing. “We wanted to change the world. Maybe this is our chance.”